


pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

by aphwhales



Series: human concepts [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphwhales/pseuds/aphwhales
Summary: “Man,” Andrei takes a swig from the open bottle of brandy between them. “Aurel asked me the other day if I knew what I looked like.”“Existential crisis, activated,” Sigurd deadpans. “He can’t see himself neither, though, so why bother askin’.”
Relationships: Norway & Romania (Hetalia)
Series: human concepts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752607
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> back to my hetalia roots here.  
might be ooc, last time i wrote aph fic was... 2015? 2016 maaaaybe. anyway. please enjoy.
> 
> i wrote this w platonic romnor in mind but it can be read however you want lol

“Man,” Andrei takes a swig from the open bottle of brandy between them. “Aurel asked me the other day if I knew what I looked like.” 

“Existential crisis, activated,” Sigurd deadpans, not looking up from his knitting, though he takes the brandy when Andrei holds it out to him without even looking. “He can’t see himself neither, though, so why bother askin’.” 

It’s not really a question - or it is and it isn’t. Andrei learned long ago that Sigurd just speaks that way - matter-of-fact, sure of himself. 

So he answers despite the possibility it’s rhetorical. “Mm, he asked me to describe how he looked. ‘T was weird.” 

“Hm,” Sigurd agrees, handing back the brandy by the neck of the bottle. His face is red from the alcohol, but still as impassive as ever. It’s the only clue as to how much he’s had, save the occasional clumsy stitch in the scarf he’s knitting. “So what’s he look like?” 

Andrei kept his little brother from other vampires, fearful that they would try to control him - there were many who were not as calm and gentle as his brother was, and Andrei didn’t want Aurel coming into contact with them until he was older. Sigurd didn’t count as a dangerous vampire, not really, but he was shy and preferred to keep away from others. 

“He’s little, still,” Andrei begins, pausing to sip at the brandy. He throws his head against the couch cushions as he continues. “Real little. His fangs are starting to come in, though… Used to be a biter when he was a kid.” 

“He’s still a kid,” Sigurd snorts. “Reminds me of my brother.” 

“You got a brother?” 

“Mm. Lives with my ex. Completely human.” 

Andrei raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want him near you.” 

“_He_ doesn’t want to be near me,” Sigurd replies bitterly. Putting his knitting to the side, he slumps further down against the front of the couch. “This floor is fucking uncomfortable,” he states, finishing off the brandy. 

“We could get up.” 

“Moving probably isn’t a good idea right now.” 

“Hm,” Andrei replies noncommittally. “So, what’s your brother like?”

“He’s…” Sigurd looks pained. “Don’t wanna talk about Emil.” 

_Emil_. Andrei had heard Sigurd mention him in passing, once or twice, but not for ages now. “So you had a falling out with him?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay, ‘kay. Anyway…” 

“...Did Aurel tell you what you looked like?” Sigurd asks quietly, looking wistfully towards the ceiling. 

“Nah. Didn’t want to be sappy an’ ask him, either. But I haven’t known what I’ve looked like since portraits went out of style.” 

“Sometimes,” Sigurd muses, resting his head against Andrei’s shoulder, “I forget how much older you are than me.” 

“Haven’t aged much since the sixteenth century or so,” Andrei giggles. “You gonna tell me what I look like or not, Sig?” 

“Your hair is horrendous,” Sigurd says bluntly without looking up. “When’s the last time you got a haircut?” 

“Probably never.” 

“Hmpf. It’s very choppy. And messy. Do you know what a comb is?” 

“You’re supposed to tell me what I look like, not insult me like a middle schooler!” Andrei laughs. 

“For you, that’s the same thing.” Sigurd finally sits up and faces him, taking in Andrei’s appearance. “Your hair is choppy, and… dark blonde, I suppose. Your eyes are red, and a little droopy. Get more sleep.” 

“Rude.” 

“Your face is round, and your eyebrows are somewhat thick.”

“Do I have freckles?” 

“No.” Sigurd sits back on his heels. “There’s a mole by your left ear, though.” 

“Want me to tell you what you look like?”

“Fine.” 

“Okay, okay,” Andrei grabs Sigurd’s face in his hands. 

“What _are_ you doin’?” 

“Preparing myself.” Andrei replies seriously, before bursting into a fit of laughter. Sigurd snorts and removes one of Andrei’s hands.

“Get on with it, I need to go to bed,” he says, a little giggly. 

“Right, yeah. Your hair is like, a really pale blonde? It’s really wispy looking and wavy.” Andrei pauses. “How the hell do you get that hair clip in when you can’t see your reflection?" 

Sigurd shrugs. “Magic,” but Andrei knows he’s joking. 

“Your face is kind of thin, but not overly so. Good cheekbones, probably. Your eyes are a really deep shade of purpley-blue.” Jokingly bitter, he finishes with, “And you have freckles.” 

“Do I?” 

“Yeah. They’re really faint, but they’re there.” 

“Hm.” Sigurd, apparently deciding they’re done here, climbs onto the couch and curls up, reminiscent of a cat. “I’m goin’ to bed.” 

“God, it’s fucking late.” 

Sigurd doesn’t respond, but when Andrei looks, his eyes are still open.


End file.
